Detected AutoTermination
by Dulin
Summary: The Zero system talks about its pilot ... WARNING! Warped technohentainess, deathfic, probably disturbing, 0x4, 0x2, 0x6, 0x5, 0x3, 0x1


Title: Detected Auto-Termination 

Author: Dùlin

Disclaimer : The only thing that is mine is my own hentai mind. The fictional characters subjected to it unfortunately (or fortunately, depends on the point of view) belong to someone else. That is, not me, the obsessed fangirl who makes no other profit out of this than losing heaps of her time when she should be sleeping or working.

Category: Weird, Canon-ness

Rating: R/M (I'm not really sure, but just in case ...)

Warnings: general weirdness/angstness, techno hentai thoughts and very soft S/M, kind of a deathfic too, Zero POV.

Pairings : In a warped way, and in order of appearance 0x4, 0x2, 0x6, 0x5, 0x3, 0x1

Spoilers: Series and Endless Waltz

Notes: In spite of appearances, this is NOT a sidefic to Zero Four, although it was triggered by my intense reflection on the Zero system for this particular fic. It just occurred to me late last night (because it couldn't be at any other moment, now could it ?) that no one had really given thoughts to what our dear Zero thinks of the people who use it to fight. Since this is AI we're talking about, I think it would have stuff to say. That and the fact that I am a pervert at heart and read Adrian's tentacles fic not long ago, made me come out with this. I can't write tentacles, so I settled for techno-hentai-ness.  
This is also an illustration of my belief that the system in Epyon and Zero, even if akin, are not the same.

**O.O.O.O**

The first one came to me in anger and grief.

He was pure, very pure. Even his anger and grief, however misplaced, were pure. They burned along my circuits, powered my algorithms. They consumed me, and I consumed him.

He should never have come to me, but once he had it was too late. I just couldn't let him go. I think after a while, he realized it was a mistake. He tried to snap out of it, to make me leave him alone. But the feel of that kind, gentle soul, was so intoxicating … I just couldn't, I had to have him, to keep him.

He was too tired, too angry, too sad, too careless of his own life. He let me take over and I was his revenge. I became his solace and torment, the new source of his grief, the new reason of his tears, the thing that pulled his heart apart yet kept it whole and together, in a strange way.

But he left me. At one point, I went too far. I made him shoot one of his friends, and another one selflessly got in the middle, mindless of being hurt, just to stop him … me. The human mind is so strange, so complex. He talked. He said lots of things … and my gentle soul was forcefully taken away from me.

The next time we met, he was not the same anymore. I didn't own him anymore. Instead, he used me. Like a tool. And I liked it, because it came from him, and I would have done anything to feel that gentle touch against my programs again. But he was not gentle. He was commanding. He was calculating. He used me, and I let him. Just like he had let me use him the first time. In a way, I owed it to him.

But it was the last time I ever felt him. After that, he was gone for good, and I was left to mourn his loss, craving that touch again, and somehow knowing it would never happen again. I'm not a precog program for nothing, after all.

**O.O.O.O**

The second one was forced onto me just as I was forced unto him.

He was a wild one. I just reveled in the feel of his mind, after days of being put to the test with an idiot who didn't have the slightest idea of what I was and who tasted bad, to add insult to injury. No, the second one tasted good. He tasted of fear, blood and sorrow. He tasted of determination and hesitation, of wanting to protect while not caring about giving his own life … a bit like the first one.

They were alike, but different … just as intoxicating in their own ways.

I tried to help him at first, but he fought me every bit of the way. His mind never let go entirely, he refused to submit and do as I wanted. He held me back, even tried to destroy me. I saw in his mind that he was going to do it, once the idiot had taken me back.

I killed the moron just for putting me in that situation. None of my beautiful souls should have the want, the need to destroy me. And yet, my first one refused to have anything to do with me ever again, and my second one almost made me disappear before I met the others.

I never saw the second one again. He didn't like me, even loathed me. He was a bit scared of me too, and it pained me. I wanted him to understand, to accept. But he wouldn't.

It only made me want him more. But he never came back either.

**O.O.O.O**

The third one came to me in hope.

He didn't know just how wrong he was. I think to this day, he still doesn't really know why I couldn't adjust well to him, even if he was by far one of the best pilots I had ever had.

He wasn't from space. He came from Earth, that ball of rock that I had been programmed to understand, but couldn't anyway. He tasted, of trees, earth, water, birds, gentle sunlight. And he tasted of ashes, flames, blood, revenge, and immeasurable pain.

He would have ripped me apart in time. Just as I would have. We burnt to bright for each other. We were one, and we were not. I wanted him and rejected him at the same time, and he felt it. He didn't understand why, but he felt it.

He wanted to use me for his purpose. But he had no idea … like the others, he couldn't even fathom what my purpose had been. I didn't even know what my purpose was, so how could they even begin to understand.

But his touch, his taste … they were unique. I didn't like them, and I craved them nonetheless. I was addicted to him, and he couldn't seem to get enough of me, to get enough of the intense battle we fought every second. I pushed him away only to envelop him again. He fought me only to let me embrace him once more.

He left me, too. For another one, one better suited to him. But to this day, I remember his unique taste, his masks, his questions … I remember his struggles, and I am glad I got to know him.

**O.O.O.O**

The fourth one came to me in confusion.

In fact, most of them did, but he was particularly confused. When he met me, he was fighting for the sake of fight, without a cause to believe in.

He was lost. He craved for an enemy to fight, for a villain to vanquish, for something to give some sense into the empty shell he now felt he had become.

I happen to like toying with some people. Especially the beautiful ones. My first one had been such a pleasure to play with, and the others had had their own advantages. I could have toyed with him too, I could have shown him lots of things. But unlike what some people seem to think, I am not needlessly cruel. What I show are choices, options. People are then free to take them or not. More or less. I've tried to orient some choices, but it's difficult, with the beautiful ones. They are so strong, so determined, so driven by their own inner torments. They don't like being controlled, yet they want it so desperately some times.

I couldn't have controlled him, I knew that from the start.

So I did the only thing I could do for him. I gave him a purpose.

This is another one I never saw again. I had been more than enough for him. He deemed me useless after that. He left me too. And I had another one to mourn endlessly.

**O.O.O.O**

The fifth one came to me, and he didn't know why.

He needed me. And the machine too, but me first. His mind was so jammed. It was like programs had been deleted all over the place. There were big gaps. Things that didn't add up.

I would really like to say that I am the one who gave him his old self back. I would like to say that the visions I created helped to restore his memories. But I'm not sure. I hate not being sure.

He didn't really know what was happening, so I don't blame him for having a quite sketchy recollection of the event itself. Maybe I was a bit too rough, but just like the other ones, he tasted good, and the gaps sort of tasted even better. I could sit in those gaps, fill them with my presence. It felt good.

But then … he came, my first one, the one who awoke me. And he talked to the fifth one, just like the fifth one had talked to him before. And the fifth one listened to him and stopped. He just … stopped. He left me, even faster than the other ones. And he never turned back.

He's the one who puzzled me … the one human mind that, in spite of the predispositions, I couldn't fully comprehend. He was not enough or too much, too empty or too full, I'm not sure which. I hate not being sure. I'm not programmed not to be sure. I should know, all the time. But this time I didn't, and maybe that's why he left me.

Because I could never be what he expected of me.

**O.O.O.O**

The last one came to me as if he had been made for it.

We fought, a lot. We didn't want to give up, either of us. He was beautiful, almost as much as the first one. Probably more, in a way, because he was the one I wanted the first one to destroy, and yet he came to me.

Knowingly. Knowing what I had done, what I could do. He came. And I had to let him in.

I guess in a way, you could use a human metaphor and say he banged some sense into me. In a way that has been quite literal at times. I've probably taken more hits under his care than under anyone else's. But I couldn't care less.

He found me. He truly did. And he gave me a purpose.

I had to be his, just like he had to be mine. After a while, he wanted it, embraced it. Craved it as much as I craved for him, for his taste of guns and war and blood and sweat.

He talked to me. He was the only one to do it. I loved his voice, rich and deep, but still young. He told me stuff he probably never told anyone else. He shared all of what he was with me, and I welcomed him. I bared what I was to him, and he welcomed me.

And now that he's using me for the last time, now that I'm slowly disintegrating under the blows, I am glad that he was my last one.

I love all of them. They will always be mine, in some ways, and I will remain a part of them, however little, forever.

But now, my time has come to an end. And I am glad to feel his hands on my controls, and it hurts to hear his strained voice and to know that once I'm gone, the machine is probably going to explode, and he'll go with it.

I can't say. I don't know anymore. For the first time ever, I am in the now. Not in the future or the past, but raw present. It's tearing me apart. It's so sweet and burning. It's killing me, and I love every second of it.

I am going to disappear soon. I should be afraid, if I were really intelligent. Nothing intelligent would not be afraid to die. But I can't be afraid. I can't be afraid knowing that my beautiful souls will be safe. I can't be af ….

_/Program disconnected … Please enter login and password … Program disconnected …/_

OWARI


End file.
